


tea break

by garvtae



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling, Supernatural
Genre: As One Does, Attempt at Humor, Crack Treated Seriously, Death quite enjoyed Kingsmen, Master of Death (Harry Potter), Meeting Supernatural Beings, No Beta, No Plot, no hurt, tea and no sympathy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-03
Updated: 2020-03-03
Packaged: 2021-02-23 03:33:44
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 492
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23005078
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/garvtae/pseuds/garvtae
Summary: That one time where Sam and Dean get whisked away for a surprise tea party with Death and end up greeting an unexpected guest.
Relationships: Dean Winchester & Sam Winchester, Death & Harry Potter
Comments: 9
Kudos: 195





	tea break

**Author's Note:**

> I was clearing out my old notebooks and found a little drabble from when I was still watching spn (so, ...around 2015?). Thought I’d put it out there and ~~purge all physical evidence~~ give the notebooks away for recycling. Here follows a lightly brushed up version of one of my most novice ventures into writing. (An attempt at humour was made, be kind and do let me know if it worked at all?//)

Sam and Dean were not tied to the chairs they sat on. That was, in and of itself, an unusual occurrence for the two brothers. 

  
Placed before them, all prim and proper and extremely British, was a breakfast table: decorated with a white tablecloth patterned with red spider lilies, piled high with an innumerable variety of biscuits and a tea kettle made of fine-china with it’s nozzle lightly steaming.   
They were both offered some tea and refreshments. Chamomile. Sam almost said yes.

  
Or, well. He _would have,_ if not for his brother kicking him (hard) in the shin, and making very obvious, wide eyed, thumb slicing neck, head cocking, gestures towards the person who had offered said tea and biscuits. 

  
~~Person.~~  
~~Thing.~~   
Entity? 

  
“You ought not worry yourselves needlessly,” remarked Death idly, settling down in the chair across them with an unnatural amount of grace for someone pushing upwards of four billion, “We have not resorted to poisoning the food we offer to you,” and then with a slight grin that, Dean observed faintly, would not look out of place on a whale shark, “we are not quite so fallen ...yet.”  
Sam politely declined on both their behalves.

  
✮

  
“We do wonder if it becomes tiresome,” the Being dressed in a double breasted, notch lapelled, five piece suit mused at them, “the recurring cycle of dying and not remaining that way?”

  
Dean responded with God’s honest truth: the short answer being a resounding _‘no’._ The long answer was also a ‘no’ but served with numerous curse words used as adjectives and verbs, in even more creative ways. 

  
Death hummed and sipped his tea.

  
Sam cleared his throat.

  
Then, silence. 

✮

  
Until, “Um, with all due respect, um, respected Death, why are we... wherever we are?” Sam hazarded to ask, quite exceedingly resembling a middle schooler asking for permission to the loo during the very first period. 

“Because we have wished it so,” said Death and _that_ it seemed, was that.

The silence resumed. 

✮

  
And then, interrupted; with the telltale sound of mighty wings flapping, appeared before them, in the time it took them to blink their eyes, a short, stocky young man. 

  
All three in his presence reacted at once, but with severely varied intents. Sam screeched his chair back, reaching for his weapons (the angel killing kind, recently promoted to being stored in places of easy access), only to realise that they were all missing. Dean, who had already gathered that his weapons were missing (it was the second thing he noticed after coming to, right after taking stock of his unusually unrestrained hands), threw himself in front of Sam, pushing him back and out of the line of imminent fire. Death? 

  
Well, Death smoothly slid out of his chair (looking a little bit like he was made of smoke and a little bit like his body was nothing but bones) and fell into a low bow, hissing a quiet and reverential, _“Massster.”_

  
✮ 

**Author's Note:**

> This little thing is meant to be a standalone but I could very easily be prompted _(hint hint// I function on praise!)_ to write another chapter, continuing the little tea party where two of the only mortals suspect the tea to be poisoned.  
> Leave a comment, let me know what you thought of it!
> 
> find me on  
> [twt](https://twitter.com/garvtae)  
> 


End file.
